


Space Madness

by NeoVenus22



Category: Firefly, Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 04:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Mal gazed out into the blackness of space, and saw at the center of it a giant silver... well, the only way to describe it was 'bone-shaped.'  It certainly gave him pause.  "What in the name of all that is good and right is that?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Space Madness

Captain Malcolm Reynolds was in the galley cleaning his guns when the 'com clicked on and begged attention. "Cap'n," said Wash, his voice steady but a half-pitch higher than normal, "I don't want to raise any alarms or anything, but we are dangerously out of fuel."

Mal pursed his lips, biting back a few choice curses so as not to hackle the man responsible for steering his ship, and said tightly, "Well, that's a situation that should have been brought to my attention some time ago, wouldn't you say?"

"That might be true," agreed Wash calmly. "Of course, some time ago, it wasn't an issue. Apparently, we have a bit of a leak."

"Wash," Mal interrupted, "I'm thinkin' we should spend a little less time jawin', and a little more time rectifyin' the situation."

"Already on top of it, Mal." Mal hated the invisible insubordination in Wash's voice. Less in the tone than in the words. Or maybe he was just having one of those days. "We're making an emergency dock on a satellite."

Mal blinked, the half second all the time he needed to process, before dropping his gun to the table, and sweeping out of the galley without a spare concern for the mess of firearms on his table. He made it to the bridge in what had to be record time, and demanded of his pilot, "Are you out of your gorram mind?"

"Probably so," Wash responded with cheer. "Least, that's what the wife tells me."

"Wash, you turn this ship around right now!"

"Relax, there, cap'n, the satellite isn't Alliance. Look at the design. It's something else."

Mal gazed out into the blackness of space, and saw at the center of it a giant silver... well, the only way to describe it was 'bone-shaped.' It certainly gave him pause. "What in the name of all that is good and right is that?"

"Satellite," repeated Wash. "With no Alliance insignia."

Tersely, Mal weighed the options in his mind. "How much fuel you said we got?"

Wash flicked on the 'com. "Kaylee, how are we doing on the fuel front?"

"I fixed the leak for now, Wash, but _Serenity_ 's pretty beat. I should probably check for external damage."

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Wash said. "We're gonna dock soon."

"Oh no we are not," said Mal, feeling his control over his crew slipping out from between his fingers. This was bordering on mutiny. "Just because you don't seen any Alliance markings doesn't mean that boat ain't trouble."

"Well, then we'll call her up and request permission. Like real space-farers," said Wash. He patched a signal through to the bone, and after a few moments in which Mal's blood reverberated in his veins, a doughy man showed up on the screen. "Hello?"

"Hi there," said Wash smoothly. "Our ship's a little tired out, we were hoping we might dock for a bit in your mighty fine port, and fuel up?"

The doughy man gave this a moment's thought. He didn't look like he was capable of being in charge of much of anything, too sloppy and confused to garner much respect. "Well, there isn't any place we could put you..."

A second voice, source unseen, piped up, "There's a docking bay around the back, Mike."

"How long have we had a docking bay?" 'Mike' demanded of the second person, having apparently forgotten about _Serenity_ and her distress call.

"Crow had it installed when he got the hot tub."

"We have a hot tub?"

"Um, excuse me?" Wash cut in. "This is all very entertaining, but we're working on a timeline, here..."

The man waved them off. "Right, right. Okay, so, the docking bay's around back, I guess. I'll send the boys down to greet you."

"Thanks muchly," said Wash, logging out. He turned to Mal with an expression that screamed 'told you so,' a cocked eyebrow and a quarter-smirk. "Well?"

"If you think this ship is touchin' one rivet to that madhouse, you are even more far gone than—"

The 'com buzzed to life, and Kaylee's voice came frazzled from the engine room. "Cap'n? Um, I don't mean to be a bother, but it sorta turns out I didn't fix that leak as good as I thought. Lacking in supplies and whatnot."

Mal counted to ten under his breath. "Fine," he said sharply. "But I'm bringing in the big guns." He stalked down the stairs to assemble his crew for a meeting.

"When most people greet new neighbors," Wash called after him, "they usually bring a casserole."

* * *

When _Serenity_ pulled into the satellite's docking bay shortly thereafter, Mal's crew was as prepped as they could be, given the circumstances. Wash and Kaylee were to come, to deal with the specifics of space travel, Zoe and Jayne were there as muscle in case muscle was needed. Mal found that nine times out of ten, muscle was needed. The others were to stay aboard _Serenity_ , keeping a low profile. "We don't know what all we're getting into," Mal said, "and so the good Doc here is going to keep his crazy sister off radar."

"She has a name, you know," sighed Simon. "For that matter, so do I."

Mal ignored this. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

"Excuse me, Mal?" Of course, always ready to throw a cog into Mal's plans, no matter how poorly thought out they may or may not have been, was Inara, gliding down the staircase. When he said he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, he'd included the Companion in that general assessment.

"Yes?" he said, hoping his tone conveyed every last drop of his annoyance.

"If you don't mind," though clearly she didn't give a good gorram if he minded or not, "I'm coming along. There's an individual on board that's in good graces with the Guild, and I'd like to say hello."

Not all of Inara's clients or potential clients were heavy Alliance, but in Mal's experience, most of them were men of questionable character. "Is he Alliance?" he demanded anyway, because information was an advantage, and because he wanted her to get the full impression of how little he thought of that idea.

"No. As far as I know, this entire Satellite is perfectly peaceable and has nothing to do with the Alliance. As such, the guns are unnecessary. I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to soil my good name."

Mal could think about six comebacks having to do with soiling, but several of them made him quite uncomfortable, and all of them were inappropriate, which normally wouldn't have mattered, except he wanted his crew on his side this time, and they didn't always take so kindly to his fights with Inara. So for once in his life, he bit his tongue. "Fine. But we're still going in armed, if'n you don't mind." He flashed her a smile, but his eyes belied his irritation. "'Cause I'm the captain, that's why."

"Well, there's certainly no question about that, is there?" Still, that seemed to be the only fuss she was going to put up. Her contact must have been some high-paying muckity-muck.

Mal had Kaylee open the doors, then stepped down the ramp flanked by Zoe and Jayne. He wasted several seconds looking for the doughy man before he remembered hat he would be sending 'the boys' down. Mal tensed, his hand hovering close to his gun, until a voice cut through the air.

"Could I pull off a coat like that?"

"I think you have the hips for it. It's very slimming, isn't it?"

Mal blanched a little: one of them was a lanky gold... thing, with a beak, and the other one was some sort of squat red hydrant with a glass head, who was floating on the air. "Huh," said Mal, because he wasn't expecting that.

Then Inara floated off Serenity, all foof and lace and makin' Mal want to vomit, and she Companion-smarmed her way through, "Mr. Servo! It's so good to see you again."

Mal did a double-take, as he couldn't figure out who she was talking to, seein' as how all the people in the room were his own crew folk, but then the little squat one turned its glass globe in her direction and said, "Inara! It's been so long."

Mal goggled. The... whatever... didn't even have eyes, what he could see. He looked around to see if anyone else in the crew was noticing this peculiarity and was pleased to see that Jayne looked equally as disturbed. Zoe, on the other hand, was keeping a remarkably straight face for the sake of good relations, or what-have-you. Maybe Zoe just wasn't bothered by weird stuff.

"Why don't you come up to the bridge?" the little one said. "I'll give you the grand tour."

They glided off, or, Inara glided and the thing hovered, holding out a minuscule arm of coiled spring for Inara to wrap her fingers around delicately. Mal stared after the display. Next to him, Jayne whistled.

"That's just downright unsettlin.'"

* * *

"Crow, Servo, those the guys with the ship?"

The bridge was enormous; it could've easily fit all of _Serenity_ 's cargo hold inside. The doughy man from the transmission was sitting in a chair, spinning in circles when the two crews approached. He nearly fell off in surprise, then righted himself again. "Hey, you must be the broken guys. You..." he trailed off, staying at the little red thing and then Inara in turn. "Uh, Tom? Where did you... what did... who..."

"Articulately put, Mr. Nelson," the red thing said derisively, "you obviously have made full use of your community college liberal arts degree." To Inara, voice dramatically low, he said, "I apologize for the crassness of my crew members, Inara."

"Crow," said the man, "what's going on?"

If the gold one could shrug (except it didn't have shoulders), Mal reckoned that would've been the moment where he would've done it. "You let 'em onboard, Mike."

Mal figured this was his cue and stepped forward with one hand dubiously outstretched. "Captain Malcolm Reynolds," he introduced himself with a chin nod. "This here's my crew— first mate Zoe, and the big one's Jayne." Jayne, ever presentable, was wearing an expression like he was sucking on a sour bullet. "Don't mind him, he's not quite right."

Jayne bristled. "Mal, in case ya hadn't noticed, ain't nothing about this situation that's 'right.'"

"Jayne, not in front of our new friends."

"Uh, right then. I'm Mike Nelson, this is Crow, and the one being creepy with your lady friend there is Tom Servo."

"No offense there, Nelson, but your crew ain't exactly..."

"Human?" Nelson shrugged. "Nah, robots, actually. Long story."

"Inara, my dear, would you care for some leftover egg foo young?" the Tom Servo one asked, stroking his floppy little hand over Inara's arm.

"And is the little one always..." Mal gestured.

Nelson held up his hands. "Hey, I didn't build them."

Which, honestly, earned points in his favor. "Well, the rest of my crew is down the docking bay, fuelin' up. We'll be out of your hair soon."

"Take your time. You're the least weird visitors we've had this week."

Mal decided that was a statement he did not particularly want to touch. He tapped his 'com instead, "Wash? Kaylee? You getting everything sorted out down there?"

"Everything's shiny, Captain," Wash reported back. "Kaylee's even made a new friend."

"You just remind her we can't keep whoever it is. We have enough troubles with the last waifs she decided to up and rescue."

"Wasn't just her doing the rescuing, Mal," Wash began, but Mal didn't want to touch that one, either, and ignored his pilot altogether. Just one day. He'd like just one day where nothing exploded in his face and there was no backtalkin' and if he wanted to really get immersed in the fantasy, some fruit and a woman or two. He was a simple man with simple desires. He didn't know why the universe insisted on standing in his way.

The 'com hit again, reminding him just how un-simple his life happened to be. "Captain, we may have something of a problem."

Simon. _Qingwa cào de liúmáng_. "Doc, I thought I told you to keep off the radar."

"Yes, except I think we might have an emergency on our hands. River has a bad feeling."

"So you're thinkin' we should just run off into the night with a busted ship and no fuel, because your crazy sister has the willies?"

"We'd be stuck in one spot forever if we shut down every time she lost her ruttin' mind," contributed Jayne.

Some days, it was nice having Jayne around. "Zoe?"

"She's been right before, sir."

He didn't think he'd see the day where he'd rather listen to Jayne than Zoe, but scary as that notion was, he knew there was only one of them he legitimately trusted to look out for his rear end. "So, ideas?"

"I hate to quite call it 'running', sir..."

"With our tail between our gorram legs," spat Jayne.

"Saves your skin, too, not just everyone else's," Zoe said sharply.

"Um, you mind my asking what exactly is going on?" asked Nelson.

"Alarm system on the ship's goin' off," said Mal, which was the closest to the truth as he was going to say, and closer to the truth than he liked to admit.

"Yeah, that happens here once a week or so. Maybe you just burned the popcorn in the microwave?"

"What?"

"Never mind. You guys gonna need some help?"

Well if that wasn't a sight. Mal couldn't quite recall the last time someone had offered help without some sort of a catch. "We'll see."

"Guess he heard about your reputation, Mike."

Mal paused, unable to stop himself from asking, even though experience had taught him it was probably better if he didn't. "Reputation?"

"Mike's nickname is 'Destroyer of Worlds,'" offered the little gold guy. "Except on Tuesdays, then it's 'Destroyer of Pork Dumplings.'"

Wash and his stupid... Mal pinched the bridge of his nose, where a headache was brewing. "Destroyer of _Worlds_?"

"All accidents," said Nelson hastily. "Sometimes things just... blow up."

"Mr. Nelson," said Mal, "with all due respect, I'm beginnin' to get the feeling I can't trust you."

And that was when the red light went off.

* * *

They didn't look like any Alliance Mal had ever known. They seemed like the sort of act being advertised at a tourist pub on a trading planet. The rotund one was obliviously bumbling and almost but didn't really remind him of Wash. The other one had a mighty mustache and wore a green coat that _Serenity_ could have seen from orbit, and while he was clearly the brains, he looked and acted as though he'd recently been on the receiving end of some very inventive electric torture.

Mal had been advised by the little gold one that he should probably stay out of sight, not that a wanted man ever needed to be told twice. He and Jayne kept to the shadows of a corner of the bridge, though Jayne had muttered something that sounded like 'gorram yellow shirking'. Zoe had been ordered to slip silently back to the rest of the crew and keep an eye on 'em. He would've preferred to have her at his side, but the fewer people he had to usher back to his girl for a good old-fashioned fleein', the better.

He still had no idea where Inara was, and while he never particularly enjoyed contemplating her whorin', judging from the company she was keeping today, he was probably better off never, ever knowing where she was or what she was doing.

"How are you doing today, Boobie?" said the mustached Alliance man.

"'Boobie'?" Jayne mouthed.

Mal couldn't answer that. Nor could he speak to how Nelson answered it, because his 'com activated. He ducked farther out of sight, Jayne taking point. " _Ta ma de_. Zoe?"

"It's River, sir."

"She gettin' a bad read on this situation?"

"I... don't know, sir. Simon says she only said one thing. 'We've got movie sign.'"

There were some days where Mal seriously considered giving up his line of work and becoming a nice, simple farmer on a nice, simple planet, where no one would say ridiculous things and he wouldn't have to run for his life. He could raise sheep. Sheep were nice. "And that means..?"

"Hell if I know, sir."

"So we should get while the gettin's good?"

"I've heard worse ideas."

"All right. Is Wash sure we're ready to fly?"

"Captain?" Now it was Wash on the 'com. "She'll hold together, least as long 'til we get to a more... er, reputable docking point."

"Lucky for you, today my standards are low," said Mal. "Jayne, you go back, and you all be ready for takeoff. I'm going to go find our wayward whore."

"Do you really think interrupting her... job is wise, sir?" said Zoe.

"If you don't wanna do it, I don't mind watchin'," offered Jayne, something that might have seemed gallant if you didn't know Jayne.

It was unwise for a number of reasons, the least of which was Inara's steely wrath. But, "You don't expect me to just leave a member of my crew behind, do you?"

"No, sir, I don't expect you to leave Inara behind," was the answer, and while her words seemed innocent enough, there was something about the way she said it that he just did not like. She and Wash spent too much time around each other. Mal wondered if there was a sign posted on his back informing everyone to take a tone with him.

"Or we could just leave her shuttle and a nice note," said Wash.

"First rule of runnin' away, Wash: don't leave a note sayin' where you're runnin' to." With that, Mal ended communications, and turned to Jayne. "Get back to the ship and make sure Kaylee doesn't pick up anymore stragglers, would ya?"

"Don't gotta tell me twice," said Jayne to the idea of more stowaways.

They headed down the corridor, away from the bridge, and split at a fork in the hall, Jayne going back the way they'd come, Mal going the way Inara had. He got turned around a few times; half these hallways didn't seem to go anywhere. He did not take kindly to being half-lost on an unfamiliar ship, 'specially one as big as this, and worst of all, not knowing how big the crew was or where any of them might be. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Inara's trilling business laugh from behind a door, although that laugh usually made him want to vomit.

He was confronted with an unpleasant choice: face Inara's wrath, or face whatever the mustached man had in mind for them if they got their fool selves caught. Inara's was a known sin. Mal knocked.

"Mike, I already told you, there aren't any cold sesame—" The door whooshed open, and Mal found himself face to... globe with the little red robot. "You're not Mike."

"My apologies, Mr. Servo," said Inara in a voice that managed to be both courteous to her host and completely condescending to her captain. Mal'd never say it out loud, but he was occasionally in awe of Companion training and all of the nuance it offered. "I'm afraid he's one of mine." The robot didn't take up much space, so Mal could see int he room behind him... it... whichever. Inara was sitting on a deceptively large bed (fully clothed, thank the 'verse), lookin' none too pleased, as to be expected. She dropped all her fancy pretense, fixing him with a steely glare. "Any particular reason you're here, Mal?"

"River's been babblin'," he said. Oh, he liked that. Inara raised an eyebrow. "My guess is it's somethin' to do with... well, that." He pointed to where a red light was flashing. It was a bit harder to spot here than anywhere else on the ship, probably because it was half-buried under a pile of... underthings. Mal took a too-late closer look at his surroundings: the walls were covered head to toe in underthings. Some men's, some frilly lacy bits, all peculiar as all get out. Where in the name of all that was good was he?

"Oh, that's the Mads," said the robot flippantly. After a breath (one of Mal's), he seemed to reconsider this attitude. "Actually, you should probably get yourselves out of here."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that like I hadn't thought of it already?" said Mal. "Inara, will you be joining us now or later?"

"Inara, my dear," said the robot, "as lovely as our time together has been, I highly suggest you depart with your crew."

"Of course," said Inara formally, with a deep bow of the head. She stood, smoothing her skirt over her hips, and bent to press a kiss to their host's globe. Mal could've quite done without seeing that ever. "Thank you for a lovely time, Mr. Servo. I'll send the Guild your regards."

"If you're going back to the docking bay," he answered, "you're going to want to turn left, left, then right down the long hallway. Ignore any yelling you might hear."

Mal shot Inara a dark look.

"Don't say a word," said Inara.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The docking bay was right where they'd left it, his beautiful girl sittin' in the middle. Jayne was standing at the hatch, gun in hand, looking appropriately surly. Kaylee was by him, jabbering away to a purple... he didn't even know what. It was another gorram robot, this one a thin tube with a huge mouth and no eyes. Whoever Mike claimed had made these clearly either had no skills or a very odd sense of humor.

"Kaylee, you make a new friend?" Mal called.

Kaylee beamed at him like she had no cares. "Mal, this girl is Gypsy. She helped me with the repairs."

'Gypsy' had no arms. "Of course she did." The same red light was flashing down here, too, which did nothing to settle Mal's concerns. "Kaylee, didn't Jayne tell you we had to be on our way?"

"'Course I ruttin' told her," barked Jayne. "She said there weren't no point in hurryin' if you weren't here yet."

"Sure thing, no need to be on the ship, except the part where you're the mechanic and the ship's broke. Say goodbye to your friend, Kaylee. We still have jobs that need doin'."

"Spoilsport," said Kaylee, but she obliged, for once in Mal's life. Why did anyone even call him Captain if no one was gonna treat him like one?

"Wash, we ready?" Mal asked over the 'com as he boarded, hoping the answer was yes, seeing as he was already closing up.

"As we'll ever be."

"Those are comforting words, Wash. Get us out of here. I want to be in the sky before anyone changes their mind."

"Sounds like a plan to me," said Wash cheerfully.

"Just remember who's the captain and who comes up with the plans around here," Mal said, feeling like he needed to get in the last word. _Serenity_ did her usual humming around him, the familiar sounds of a ship in flight that let him sleep at night, and they took off, leaving the creepy satellite behind.

But not before Mal distinctly heard the cry of its crew, the most peculiar thing Mal had heard in a life that had recently included hearing a series of increasingly peculiar things: "We've got movie sign!"

Next time his crew told him they were out of fuel, he was just gonna let 'em all rot in the black.


End file.
